


No Maps to the Past

by shuhannon



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Logan Lucky (2017) Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Duck Tape Bar & Grill (Logan Lucky), F/M, It's never good when you mix alcohols
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuhannon/pseuds/shuhannon
Summary: all rey wants to do is get through her shift at the duck tape. what she’s not expecting is her soulmate to show up. especially since he left boone county ten years ago.a star wars / logan lucky au
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134
Collections: The Pink Ladies Love Exchange





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyJediLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyJediLife/gifts).



> for heathyr, the all knowing goddess of logan lucky and the biggest wip ho of the reylo fandom.

[](https://ibb.co/bm3yrzR)

_How did I love you the first time we realized that we both did?_

_And all of the canyons in my mind_

_were suddenly crossed upon your bridges_

_How did I used to hold you before you knew that you needed it?_

_If everything always feels new, then what if nothing is?_

’no maps of the past’ - the collection 

  
  


“You’re British.”

Rey was used to the observation. After all, Boone County wasn’t known for being a melting pot, of being full of people from all walks of life.

It was an isolated, rural area. A place that had more land than people.

Rey had lived here for as long as she could remember, yet her accent had stuck. As a kid she had clung to it, being the only clue to her past. It was the only seemingly tangible connection that she had to her parents.

But a British accent in West Virginia also made you stick out like a sore thumb.

Especially when you worked at a place like the Duck Tape.

Rolling her eyes, her back was to the bar patron. “Yep.” She kept her response short and curt, not offering anything more than the bare necessities. Maybe her tips would be shit that night, but then again what else was new? The Duck Tape had cheap drinks, greasy food and didn’t necessarily attract the type of crowd that would tip through the roof.

Still, it was home.

You didn’t turn your back on home.

“Funny,” the man continued on after a brief pause. Had he even ordered anything yet? Rey didn’t turn to see. She continued slicing lemons into wedges, ignoring the dull sting of the acidic juice into a cut on her thumb.

“I knew a Brit that lived in Boone County once.”

Rey’s fingers slowed. Her actions didn’t come to a complete stop. She still refused to turn around, not yet. But something… something about his voice seemed familiar. The same kind of familiar that caused the hair on the back of your neck to stand at attention, yet it was still hard to put your finger on it.

“She was stubborn as hell, a real spitfire. She got into this fight in the sixth grade once, left the other guy with a bloody nose and a black eye. All because her best friend was being picked on. Being teased for the size of his ears. Children can be so cruel.”

Rey felt the color draining from her face. An eerie chill settled in, deep in her bones.

Because she recognized that voice, she finally placed that deep baritone.

Still, the man continued on. “She was my soulmate, actually. Turned eighteen and her name showed up on my wrist. Unfortunately I couldn’t stick around to figure out what all of that meant.”

She spun around now, knowing exactly what to expect and yet feeling as if she was looking into the unknown.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t say a single word.

Rey reached forward, picked up the nearest glass off of the bar, and threw its contents into Ben Solo’s face.

“Welcome back, _soulmate_.”

Reaching down, Rey yanked off the apron from around her waist, throwing in a random direction. The bar went quiet, other than the country music playing in the background.

“Maz, I’m taking my break!” She called towards the back of the bar where the kitchen was located, before she stormed out of the Duck Tape.

~*~*~

Ben knew this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. 

He had left Boone County for a reason, without any plans to come back. And for so long, Ben had stuck to that plan. He had stayed away, avoiding any and all contact with his family; his parents, his friends, _her_.

Letters remained unopened, calls weren’t returned. Holidays, birthdays, they all went pretty much uncelebrated all because Ben was a big enough dick to avoid his family, yet not a big enough dick to feel content celebrating with anyone else.

Even now, when he had come back it had been due to work, nothing more.

Ben wouldn’t let it be anything more.

His trip to the Duck Tape had technically been business. He had a list of potential suspects and leads. He had a job to do, which unfortunately meant he had to cross paths with familiar places and people.

_I’m just doing my job. I’m just following protocol,_ Ben kept trying to tell himself as he sat in the driver's seat of the rental car, parked in the gravel parking lot.

The bar looked the same. How many times had Ben been dragged here as a kid, so his dad could shoot the shit with Chewie and Lando over beers and wings? How many hours had he spent playing in the back office or helping Maz wipe down the bar?

Ben was pretty sure six year olds weren’t supposed to help clean up beer spills, but then again, there he was time and time again, standing on a bar stool with a rag in hand.

The Duck Tape had been where he had first met Rey.

_Nonononoshitshitshitshit_.

He was not going there. Ben wasn’t going to think about that. He couldn’t. Because she was the one thing that could undo it all, the one thing that could unravel the wall he had been working so hard at putting up over the last ten years.

She looked the same. Or maybe it wasn’t her physical appearance that hadn’t changed over the past decade as much as her mannerisms, her quirks.

Freckles were still sprinkled across the bridge of her nose, her skin was still golden tan. She wore the same style of jean cut- offs, and if they had seemed short at sixteen when she was still growing, well, they seemed deliciously criminal now.

Her legs were long, lanky but strong. She had the same megawatt smile that seemed infectious even to the coldest of hearts. Her hair was still the same chestnut brown shade, but it seemed shorter now. Before she used to always wear it pulled back into a trio of vertical buns. Now it just dusted the tops of her shoulder blades.

Ben felt his fingers itch, wanting to sweep it away from her skin.

Instead, he curled his hands into momentary fists, his fingers twitching slightly as they uncurled and relaxed. 

She was busy, running around, refilling drinks, making small talk with the regulars or running food orders from the pick up window. So busy, that Ben was able to slip in unnoticed, as he took a seat at the busy bar. Busy was fine. Busy meant he could blend in, meant he could watch a little more, could buy himself time as he tried to figure out what to say.

Of course, by the time he actually got the courage to speak to her, Ben wanted to punch himself in the mouth for what he said.

Part of his mind didn’t blame her for throwing the half drunk beer into his face. Part of Ben was just thankful that she didn’t throw the entire glass.

Wiping away the lukewarm Budweiser out of his eyes, Ben exhaled slowly. He turned to look, seeing all eyes on him as well as the fleeing waitress. He just glowered in return before sliding off of his barstool and moving to go after her.

The last thing he heard from inside the Duck Tape was Maz Kanata shouting after him, “Nice to have you back, Ben Solo!” 

~*~*~

“Rey! _Rey! Wait!_ ”

She didn’t wait. She didn’t slow down, didn’t stop moving as she spun her heel to change direction so that she was moving in the direction of Ben Solo instead of away from him.

Rey didn’t let him get another word in either. Her arm was curled back before it came swinging forward.

_Slap._

The sound of her palm hitting his cheek rang out into the cool, crisp fall night. It was so loud, Rey wouldn’t be surprised if it was the only thing heard for miles around.

She wasn’t done yet.

As her arm revved up, ready to deliver hit number two. Except, this time he was ready. This time his fingers curled around her wrist, his grip firm as he brought her momentum to a shuddering stop.

Rey moved to jerk her arm from his grasp.

Ben didn’t let go.

“You left.” She spat the words out, hating the way her voice seemed to tremble, to shake. “You left and he _needed_ you. You could have _helped_ him.”

“I couldn’t have done anything.” Ben shook his head, his frown deepening as his grip remained firm. “It was out of my control-“

“That’s bullshit.” Rey gave another sharp tug, and this time Ben let go. She ignored the way her skin was tinged pink, ignored the way her wrist seemed hot and flushed from where his fingers had touched her.

It had nothing to do with how hard he had been holding her.

Rey pushed that thought deep down, so far away from the surface in hopes that it would lose circulation, would be left to shrivel up and die.

If only she would be so lucky.

“What was I supposed to do Rey?!” His voice was growing in volume, his arms moving frantically as he spoke. “He admitted it. He committed a crime and he plead guilty. He broke the law. I’m an FBI agent for Christ’s sake, not fucking God.”

“Don’t act stupid,” Rey snapped back, her eyes narrowed as she gave another sharp pull on her arm. This time he let go. “You’re smarter than that, _Agent_ Solo.”

Silence fell between them. They were just standing there, staring at one another; Rey with her accusing gaze and Ben with his furrowed brow, frustration and confusion etched into his weary features.

Finally Ben took a step forward.

Rey moved back.

“Just- just leave, okay?” Her voice was quiet now, a low pleading murmur. “Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

Then she was turning, was moving to walk back in the direction of the Duck Tape. 

Ben didn’t go after her this time. After all, he was pretty damn good at just letting her go, at letting her walk away.

~*~*~

She finished up her shift. She walked back into the Duck Tape, tied that apron around her waist, and returned to making drinks and delivering baskets of wings and fries to the waiting patrons.

No one asked her about the man in the suit. Rey didn’t offer up any information.

Only Maz knew the truth, knew the reason Rey was always tugging her sleeves down in the winter, why she always wore the same, worn leather cuff around her wrist.

Part of Rey had been shocked when his name appeared on her wrist once she turned eighteen. 

Part of her knew it was coming. The universe had a particular talent for fucking up her life. Some days she wondered if anyone else had bad luck, or if this was her curse, the burden she had to carry. 

Wasn’t it bad enough that she had been left at a junkyard when she was five? Wasn’t it bad enough that her parents had just abandoned her? Not even somewhere safe, no. That would be asking too much. They couldn’t have picked a hospital, a police station, hell even a shopping mall would have been better.

Instead they had given her to Unkar Plutt.

Plutt wasn’t all that bad. He didn’t touch her; didn’t lay a finger on her head. But he was lazy. Rey knew the true meaning of hard work before she was six. She did nothing but work. In exchange, Plutt fed her. Usually. Sometimes it was just a bag of pork rinds, other times it was at least two pieces of slightly stale bread with some dusty tasting peanut butter spread between them.

Soon Rey just got used to being hungry, got used to not knowing when the next meal would come or if it would be enough. She quickly learned it was never actually enough.

Then she had met Ben.

He had tagged along with his dad, searching for car parts throughout the never-ending mounds that filled the junkyard. She had been seven, while he had been nine, almost ten.

Rey had tripped him; had used an old wooden broom handle to knock him off his feet before she had stood over him, one end of the makeshift staff pointed at his face.

Ben had pushed the glorified stick away, had called her something stupid like a dirty womprat. 

They were friends ever since. The rest was history.

Then it all had to change. Then he had to go and be stupid, had to run off and enlist. 

“I’ll be back.” He had promised.

Except Rey should have known better. People never kept their promises. People never came back.

~*~*~

The Comfort Motel was nothing but a lie the moment Ben’s eyes landed upon the tall, flickering sign that was attached to the side of the beige building.

The room smelled like mildew. The comforter was thin and scratchy, a relic from it’s heyday in the 80’s. The bathroom was small. Ben couldn’t actually sit on the toilet without banging his knees into the vanity. He didn’t even want to _touch_ the shower curtain, so instead he opted to wash up in the sink, splashing cold water onto his face, his neck.

It helped the same way rain did on the fourth of July.

He had long ago ditched the suit and tie, hanging it up in the creaking closet. Now Ben just sat on the edge of the bed, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He had picked it up at the store, grabbing the first amber colored bottle he had seen.

Corellian brand. His father’s favorite.

Ben didn’t know how this day could get any worse.

He knew this was going to be hard. He knew that he wouldn’t be welcomed back like the prodigal son with open arms. 

But Ben also thought enough time had passed. He thought perhaps distance and time would have made this easier. He thought he had cut off his emotions, that he had managed to put away what had happened all those years ago in a tiny little box that had been shoved far far away in a deep, inaccessible part of his mind.

Ben should have known that it was all a lie.

Sighing, he stood, bottle still in hand. It seemed like a waste to not drink it. It also seemed like a cruel joke, something only Han Solo could do from beyond the grave. 

“Hope you’re happy,” Ben muttered under his breath, as he set down the bottle with a heavy thud on the nightstand. 

He walked across the room, pulling shut the emerald drapes, the green somehow being both too deep, too dark and also too aggressive and bright.

This hotel room sucked.

Then again, Boone County had never been known for its sophistication or class. People came for hiking trails. It was known for its coal, lumber, even it’s strawberries. Not for its five star accommodations.

Flicking off the lights, Ben crawled into bed, tossing and turning as he attempted to ignore the way the pillows smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. 

Marlboro menthols. The same ones Leia smoked, even when she insisted she was just out taking the dog for a walk. She always walked Chewie more and more when his father left for another “business trip.”

The scent had always lingered in her hair.

Ben flipped the pillow over. No luck. He swapped it for the other one that was on the queen size bed, but the scent seemed to only grow stronger.

Finally he just chose to lay there, accepting his fate. He was in Boone County again. Ghosts of the past were bound to haunt him. Ben just thought he might be able to at least escape them in the privacy of his hotel room.

It seemed the universe had other plans.

~*~*~

“Your boyfriend’s back.” Maz called from the kitchen.

It took Rey a minute to realize who she was talking too. Then she saw him standing there, wearing the same suit but with a different tie.

“We’re closed.” She announced, her voice curt and far too loud for someone that didn’t care.

Why did she have to fucking care?

She heard him clear his throat as he slowly began to approach her. His pace was slow but thanks to his legs, his strides were still long. “Your sign says otherwise.” 

Rey looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Maz to help back her up. The owner of the Duck Tape never shied away from confrontation, never felt the need to hold her tongue and she usually had Rey’s back when it came to disgruntled customers.

Apparently long lost soulmates didn’t count.

“Look, I just want to talk.” He quickened his pace, moving to step in front of Rey as she came out from behind the bar.

“I don’t have anything to talk to you about.”

She could feel his eyes narrowing, could feel the way his gaze burning into the back of her head.

“Your wrist says otherwise.”

Her entire body went still, went frozen and numb. This was the subject that they didn’t talk about. It was the one thing that was entirely off limits, the one guideline that they didn’t need to discuss because it had just been set.

“Don’t.” Rey shook her head as she continued to move. She picked up a bin of silverware that needed to be rolled. She needed something to do, something to keep her hands busy.

“We need to talk about this-” He tried again.

Rey whirled on her heel. She could tell he instantly regretted the choice of words. She could tell he wished that he could take them back.

Except Ben Solo, of all people, should know that there was no magical time machine. There was no rewind button, no do-overs. 

Once the words were said, there was no way to take them back.

She slammed the plastic bin down onto the nearest table top, ignoring the rattle of silverware and the way it made the whole table shake.

“Now you want to talk?” Her eyes flashed angrily as she stepped towards him. “Now you suddenly want to address things? Let me guess, you’ve spent one night back in Boone County and suddenly you’ve realized the error of the ways.”

“No- Rey- that’s not what I-” 

She didn’t stop moving towards him, didn’t stop even as she stood right in front of him. Instead Rey pressed her palms against his chest, giving him a rough shove. “You don’t get to just waltz back in here and play the fucking soulmates card. You don’t have the right.”

“I _know_!” He roared. He was holding his hands up, maybe in defeat, maybe in surrender, maybe both. Slowly Ben began to step back, raking a hand through his hair. Rey heard him exhale, watched as he hung his head, his hands slowly lowering back down to his sides.

“I know.” He echoed, this time his voice sounding softer, gentler, yet also hoarse. “I just- I don’t know-” 

She saw the twitch of his jaw, her eyes darting between his face and the large hands that were placed on his hips. She felt her gaze becoming snagged on his left wrist. The same wrist where her name was forever embedded into his skin. Where it was hiding underneath layers of cloth. 

In some ways it felt a world away. In others it felt so close. All she had to do was step forward. All she had to do was push up his sleeves in order to take a look.

“Well, let me know when you figure it out.” The words came out quiet, distant, the tone cold. Rey didn’t bother to run away this time. Instead she just turned, picking up the plastic tub and she continued with her task.

She didn’t look at him, didn’t even glance in his direction. All Rey heard was the sound of retreating footsteps followed by the front door being opened, then pulled shut.

Still, for some reason, she was surprised when she turned towards the place where he stood, and found it vacant, empty.

No matter how many times he did it, Rey always felt a small feeling of surprise that he had actually left.

~*~*~

Ben drove around for hours. He took the rental car all over Boone County, discovering new roads and revisiting old ones. 

Somehow he ended up going down the same dirt road that he had driven over thousands of times. 

The house looked the same. Same wide, wrap around porch. Same white siding that was in need of a fresh coat of paint. Same old basketball hoop that was hung up above the detached garage. The same garage that was filled with nothing but rusted out cars and parts that didn’t belong to them.

Ben wouldn’t be surprised if no one had touched a thing in there since Han had died.

He didn’t know how long he sat in the car, the engine running idle and his hands still gripping the steering wheel.

Ben remembered shooting hoops with his parents in the driveway. He remembered falling out of the old green ash tree and breaking his arm when he was ten. He remembered the first time that Rey had come over to play and how her eyes had grown large like saucers at the contents of their fridge.

He remembered running from the car, up the steps of the porch, slamming the front door behind him. His mother had called after him while Han kept telling her to give him some space. 

He remembered fighting with his uncle on the front lawn while Ben tried to leave, determined to be anywhere but there.

He remembered how badly he had wanted to kiss Rey while they sat on the porch swing, late one summer night.

A knock on the car window drew him out of his thoughts. Ben jumped, a string of expletives streamed from his mouth as he turned towards the culprit.

Leia Organa was standing beside the driver side door, wearing an old navy blue raincoat that he was pretty sure had been his fathers.

“You coming in?” She called, her voice sounding muffled thanks to the layer of glass that separated in. “Or are you just going to sit in my driveway all night long?”

With that she turned, making her way back up to the house. She had never been the type to stand around, waiting for others to make up their mind. She had always taken control of her own future, her own destiny.

It was a stubborn sort of trait that had been passed down to Ben, though his father had always teased he had used it for evil rather than good.

Ben waited until he saw his mother disappear through the front door. Slowly he moved to cut the engine before he opened up the driver side door.

Then for the first time in over a decade, Ben walked up those front porch steps, the same ones he had played on, had fallen off of, had sat and cried. For the first time in over ten years, Ben walked back into his childhood home.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rey still is just trying to get through a shift of working at the duck tape without ben solo showing up. they talk. there's alcohol involved. things are explained yet not quite resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONCE AGAIN FOR MY DEAR MRS. CLYDE LOGAN. heathyr you're wonderful and amazing, a gift to this fandom and i hope you enjoy chapter two. 
> 
> thanks to thanks to [bronwyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/here4thereylo/pseuds/here4thereylo) for being my beta once again! ♥️

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182242012@N03/49330684846/in/dateposted-public/)

_ I'm trying to find my way back to where we started _

_ My tired mind holds no maps of the past _

_ If you are the wine, then I'm the headache you part with _

_ Leaving us blind to why we ever poured the glass _

  
  


Her shift at the bar had run late, then again not getting out on time usually ran hand in hand with working in the restaurant life. Rey never really minded. After all, what else did she have to do? She didn’t have any plans, didn’t have anyone waiting up for her at home. 

So she took her time, counting all the change in the till and wiping down the bar top for the millionth time. No matter how many rags ran over the wooden surface, it always seemed to stay sticky. 

Rey took out the trash. She finished washing up the last of the glasses. She turned off the tv that was always playing some sort of sporting event, hung up her apron and finally clocked out.

Then she drove home, more than ready to sit down for the night. Maybe she would drink some wine, maybe she would watch a movie. Maybe she would take a shower, washing away all of the day’s grease and grime and just call it a night.

What she hadn’t expected was to find Ben Solo at her house, sitting on the steps of her front porch.

Her first instinct was to try and run him over with her car.

But then she could hit her house, and Rey was very fond of her house. She had worked hard for it, had saved for years and years to finally have a place to call her own, a place that could become home.

Clambering out of her car, Rey was seething with anger. “You know showing up at the Duck Tape is one thing but this? This is stalking-”

“I went to see Leia.”

Rey found herself frozen in her tracks. Her brain was trying to catch up to what Ben just said, but now he was talking again, words spilling out in an endless stream from his mouth.

“We talked about- well, we talked about everything. I’m not saying that it’s fixed. I’m not saying that it suddenly makes up for the last ten years but-”

Her head began to swim. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, a hand held up in front of her. “Wait, slow down. You’re going too fast.”

Ben Solo seemed to only ever have two speeds when it came to speech. Either utter silence, or vocal diarrhea. 

He stopped mid-ramble, pressing his lips together tight. He then opened his mouth before seemingly deciding against it. Instead he just stood there, as if he was waiting for Rey to say something, waiting for her to make her verdict.

She blew out a breath, her hands brushing away stray wisps of hair away from her forehead. “Let’s just- let’s go inside.” 

All Ben did was nod, so Rey moved forward, gently brushing past him en route to her house. She tried to ignore the way her fingers shook as she unlocked the front door. She bit back the urge to make excuses for the state of her living room as she flicked on the light. 

Rey had always been messy. Maybe it was genetic, something she had inherited from her parents. Maybe it was a side effect of being raised around literal junk for the majority of her life.

Either way, Rey wasn’t about to apologize to Ben Solo. Not for the fact that every surface in her apartment was cluttered; that piles of books, and papers and tools and gears were covering the coffee table. That she had two laundry baskets sitting in the middle of the living room, some of their contents spilling over onto the couch.

Rey merely walked over, shoving the pile of unfolded, clean clothes to the opposite side. 

“Sit.” She ordered, pointing to the now cleared side of the sofa. “I’m going to get drinks.” 

She returned with an entire bottle of Corellian whiskey, not a single glass in sight. Rey hoped it conveyed that she didn’t care enough about Ben to offer him a glass. In reality she didn’t have any clean ones left. And she was  _ not  _ about to do dishes for Ben Solo.

At first Rey moved to sit beside him on the couch before deciding against it. No, standing would be better. Much better.

She undid the cap and raised the bottle to her lips, taking a long drink. The liquor burned going down her throat, but Rey did her best to ignore it, to push the sensation from her mind. It was only after she had her fill that she held the bottle out to Ben.

Part of her expected him to decline, to bulk at the brand. It was Han’s favorite, after all. Rey kept telling herself that she hadn’t picked it on purpose, that she hadn’t done it as one final dig, one final twist of the knife.

In reality she knew exactly what she was doing when she had chosen that bottle from her liquor cabinet. 

But Ben did accept the whiskey, his fingers brushing against hers as he accepted it from her hand.

That’s when Rey realized it. He wasn’t wearing his suit.

Instead he had on jeans and a charcoal gray henley. It was the most casual version of Ben Solo that Rey had seen in over ten years. 

His sleeves were pushed up, leaving his forearms bare.

She caught sight of it, the scrawl of her signature, tiny but messy as if it had been written in haste across the inside of his wrist.

Rey had never seen it so close before. Part of her mind wondered if it had ever even existed.

Self consciously she fidgeted with the leather cuff on her wrist.

When she looked up, she caught Ben staring. His gaze flickered intently between her own wrist and her face.

Rey kept trying to swallow down the lump in her throat. That did nothing, so instead she tried to drown it with more whiskey.

For a while, neither of them spoke. For a moment, Rey forgot why he was even here, how they had ended up sitting in her living room, silently passing the bottle between them.

Rey wondered for a while if it was worth even talking about. Even if the layers of lies and deceit and betrayal could be pulled back, would it be enough to fix it all? Could it even be fixed or had they simply been doomed from the very start?

Maybe they just needed to cut ties, count their losses and accept that too much damage had been done. Sometimes the house couldn’t be rebuilt. Sometimes it just needed to be knocked down, to give way for someone else to start anew.

~*~*~

Her house looked exactly how Ben thought it would. Clean but also a mess. Cluttered with things that didn’t seem to have a place, yet if he asked for a wrench or a set of wire cutters, he had no doubt Rey would know exactly where they were.

It was small. It looked small from the outside, and now being indoors it felt even smaller. But here he was, sitting in her living room, sharing a bottle of whiskey between them.

In some ways it felt like another life. An alternate universe. Something that could have been.

He tried not to rush this. He tried to hold back everything he wanted to say, the apologies over how stupid he had been.

For all of his life, Ben knew there was something off about his father’s work. He traveled too much, and when he was gone, he only offered up either the vaguest of details or animated stories that seemed too far fetched to be true.

It wasn’t until he had been older that Ben began to piece things together.

“But you’re a lawyer.” Ben had blurted out to his mother one Sunday morning as they watched Han drive away once more in his beat up old YT-1300 that had been modified within an inch of it’s long life.

“I am.” Leia had said after a moment. She had looked over at her son, her brown eyes soft and loving. It was the way she had always looked at him, even when her vision was muddled with tears or her lips were pressed into a thin, angry line.

“But- how? Dad-“

“I am what I am. And your father is what he is. We can’t help who we are, or that we fell in love.”

That was the closest they had ever come to discuss his father’s career path. Until that day Ben had shown up in her driveway.

Until his mother had finally told him the tale of the infamous heist that had been dubbed “Oceans Seven-Eleven” by locals and journalists alike.

The same heist that Han Solo had been arrested for, but had never been found guilty. 

He had died before a verdict could be reached, had died before the trial had even officially got underway.

The only silver lining was that his mother had posted bail, meaning he had at least passed away in his sleep, peaceful and at home.

Ben hadn’t come home for the funeral.

Hux, the FBI agent and Ben’s colleague had been working the case. He remained insistent that Han hadn’t worked alone. He kept telling anyone that would hear that someone else had been involved.

Which was why Ben had been told to come sniffing around Boone County. 

“It’s your home, correct? You have family there? Friends?” His boss, Agent Snoke has asked.

Ben hadn’t responded.

Yet the assignment was still given to him. He was told to check all the old leads, to see if time had loosened anyone’s lips.

And, ironically it had.

“I know that he did it to help you.”

He watched her grip adjust around the neck of the bottle. Her hazel eyes flashed to his but her lips remained tightly shut.

“She told me the whole thing, Rey. You were going to lose your visa. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have-“

“Could have what?” She interrupted with a snap.

“I work for the government. Maybe I could have pulled some strings.”

“You didn’t pull any strings for your father.”

“He had a record. He had a history of petty crime, and he couldn’t even provide a proper alibi. He could have struck a deal. He could have covered his tracks better.”

Ben paused, watching the way Rey shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He watched the way she raised the bottle to her lips, watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed.

“That was the one thing that always drove me nuts.” Ben began to say, slowly getting to his feet. “That was the one thing I couldn’t understand. Han was never exactly smooth, but he wasn’t stupid either.”

This was the one thing that his mother had left out of the story. The one thing that Ben had to figure out for himself.

“You helped him.”

Her silence spoke more than words ever could.

“You were part of the heist.”

Rey was the accomplice he had been sent to look for. The name he was expected to report, the person he was supposed to bring in for questioning. The elusive someone that Snoke wanted him to arrest.

Rey was the whole reason behind the heist. The heist that was initially supposed to be small, yet by mere chance and flaw ended up robbing the Coca-Cola 600, the busiest race of the entire year.

She needed a visa, needed a way to stay in the states. Visas cost money, money that she didn’t have. 

Han was a pro, and more importantly he would have been more than enough willing to help.

No, not just help, but to take the brunt of the fall when things began to go south.

Neither Ben or Rey spoke, and then…

“Did Leia tell you he was sick?” Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes were rimmed with red, the way they always were when she was trying not to cry. Ben watched as she took another long drink before she continued on.

“Han getting caught was always part of the plan. I didn’t know it at the time. If I did, I never would have agreed. I thought he was coming out of retirement to help. Had I known that he and Leia had already discussed it-“

Her voice trailed off, and now it was Ben’s turn to stand there, mind reeling as he tried to piece together everything she was saying.

It was a part of the story that his mother had left out. Probably to protect Rey. To save her from facing the consequences. To shield the scavenger girl she had always loved like a daughter from her own son.

“Is this the part where you arrest me? Where you take me away in handcuffs?” Rey asked, the humor dry despite the tears that had begun to fall down her freckled face.

All Ben could do was shake his head.

“Legally I can't even testify against you.”

He watched her brow furrow, her lips curl into a frown of confusion.

Ben merely lifted his left arm, tapped his finger to his wrist.

The Soulmates clause under the Federal Rules of Evidence.

“Soulmates can’t testify against one another.” Rey whispered, and all Ben could do was nod.

He could bring another agent in. He could turn the case over to Mitaka or Phasma or even back to Hux.

This was all probably bad form anyways, the fact that Ben was related to the original suspect, that his family was so deeply entwined in the case. 

Then again, that was probably Snoke’s intentions all along. Ben didn’t doubt that his boss would find pleasure in the idea of Ben arresting his own mother, perhaps one of his uncles.

If only Snoke knew that Ben Solo had a soulmate living in Boone County all along.

Her name would have gone to the top of his list.

“So now what?” Rey mumbled her words as she raised a hand, swiping quickly at her eyes.

“Now nothing.”

Rey looked apprehensive. Ben couldn’t even blame her. They had no trust between them. She had no reason to believe that he wasn’t wearing a wire, that he wasn’t waiting for backup to swoop in to take her away.

“Look,” Ben said with a frown. “I just found out that my father took the fall for a crime that was committed not just for you, but  _ with _ you. Not just that, but he also was terminally sick and no one even fucking told me, and that everyone in god damn Boone County pretty much knew the truth except for me.”

He stepped towards Rey, and for what felt for the first time in a long time, she didn’t step away. “So you’ll excuse me if the only thing I want to do right now is drink.”

He made a grab for the bottle, surprised when she relinquished custody of it and let it go.

“Alright.” Ben raised the bottle to his lips, but his gaze was on Rey as she spoke. “Let’s drink.”

So drink is what they did.

~*~*~

Rey was seated on the couch, her entire body sprawled across it, taking up as much room as she could.

Ben sat across from her on the floor, his back leaning against the adjacent armchair. His legs were spread out before him, his shoes long ago discarded and his hair sticking up at odd angles.

Rey giggled.

Fuck, she actually giggled.

“You look stupid.” She proclaimed, guzzling back another drink from the bottle. The whiskey was long gone, same with a couple cheap wine coolers that she had found in the back of the fridge. They had moved onto shots of tequila straight from the bottle.

Rey still wasn’t about to wash glasses for Ben fucking Solo.

He looked confused, gave her about the stupidest confounded look which pretty much matched the stupid way his hair kept sticking up every which way.

Letting out a sigh of annoyance, Rey rolled over onto the floor, where she landed with a very hard, very ungraceful  _ thud _ .

She muttered complete drunken nonsense under her breath as she crawled across the floor on her hands and knees. When she arrived where Ben sat, Rey reached out, her fingers beginning to card through his dark hair.

“It’s long.” Rey murmured, though she wasn’t sure if the comment was meant for Ben or just herself. “You let it get long.”

Her eyes flickered to the base of his throat, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

“No time for haircuts. Long hours. I’m not really home, much.”

Rey simply nodded. She sucked in her bottom lip, began to work at it with her teeth.

Her fingers lingered in his hair.

It was soft, like she remembered it. And he smelled the same. A decade had passed. So much had happened yet it seemed Ben Solo had never bothered to change shampoo brands or detergents.

Time seemed to stand still as they sat there, Rey crouched before Ben, her hand combing back his hair. Neither one seemed to be breathing, neither one daring to move either closer or farther away.

Then Ben raised his hand, moved to gently cup Rey’s wrist. The one where she wore the cuff.

Rey felt hot and flushed. The room felt too warm. She felt dizzy.

“I didn’t think it would happen.” Ben was speaking now, his deep baritone nothing but a low murmur. “There’s stories you hear. Rumors about it being one sided. About a person either matching with someone else, or not at all.”

Rey remained completely still despite the fact her body was trembling. She didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, didn’t dare to breathe as she felt his fingers working the clasp of her bracelet. She never took it off around other people. No one asked about it either. Everyone just assumed she either hadn’t been given a soulmate or didn’t like the name that had appeared on her wrist.

In reality it was none of the above. The complete opposite, in fact.

The leather cuff fell away from her wrist. They both allowed gravity to determine its fate, and suddenly Rey didn’t care where it went or if was lost forever.

Ben was staring at her wrist, where his neat handwriting was etched in her skin. What beautiful handwriting it was too. Neat. Precise. All those calligraphy lessons he had taken as a kid had really paid off…

He traced each curve, each loop of his name, letter by letter. 

_ Benjamin Solo. _

Then his touch was gone. He had dropped his hand, and now Rey knew it was her turn.

Slowly, like she was moving through water, Rey reached for his arm. She gently turned it over so that his palm was facing up, exposing her own name on his skin.

If Ben’s handwriting was a summary of the beauty in the world, Rey’s was the definition of practicality. She wrote out of necessity, nothing more, and her handwriting showed it.

But that was okay. Because there couldn’t be a world full of only pretty things. Some things had to be pure purpose.

At some point their bodies had shifted closer. At some point they had begun to lean in towards one another, as if they were drawn together by a hidden, invisible force. As if a magical magnetism filled the room, and they were both being pulled towards the light.

“You left.” The two words were barely a whisper, the last thread of reality that even in her drunken state, her mind refused to forget.

“I’m here now.” 

She watched his tongue dart out, the pink tip of it moving to wet his lips. She watched his dark brown eyes flicker down to her mouth.

He was here now.

Ten years had passed and he was here now.

Ten years was an awfully long time. It was a decade of holding onto grudges, on hiding secrets and hoping no one would come digging around trees searching for nest eggs that were hidden far beneath the earth. 

A decade without a soulmate, of trying to suppress feelings, of trying to twist love into hate.

Rey was so tired of holding onto things. 

So, instead she decided to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all comments/kudos are appreciated! ♥️
> 
> feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/shuhannon)


End file.
